I'm Only Sleeping
by iammeanttolive
Summary: John is tired of the fame and of himself. Paul is in a bad mood thanks to John and his self-loathing. All John wants is some sleep and peace. All Paul wants is for John to be happy...and maybe other things. SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** "I'm Only Sleeping"

**By:** Melody (iammeanttolive)

**Warning:** Some swearing (seckzual content in future chapters)

**Rating:** PG-13 for now. Will be R later on.

**Pairing:** John/Paul

**Time period:** Late 65

**POV:** Starts out with John, but switches back and forth between John and Paul.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own, otherwise this would be true. Even if it is true, I still don't own them.

**A/N:** This is unbeta'd. Any mistakes are all my fault. Also, I know this is not in the correct section, but this is the closest thing to The Beatles.

* * *

He hated being famous. He hated all the girls. He despised what he had become. _More like what I've always been. _

"A sorry soul you are, John Lennon." He told his reflection in the puddle. He stomped his foot in the reflection's face, and watched the water as it rose into the air and then came in contact with the ground.

With his shoulders slouched and his head down, he continued to walk down the cobblestone alley-way. It was rather dreary and grey, and there was no sign of any sun. _Such a lovely day._ He listened to his foot steps, echoing off the narrow walls, and he started to hum a song. It wasn't anything in particular, just a tune that had come about in his head over the past few days. Maybe he would put lyrics to it sometime soon. _Sometime when I can sit down without bloody noise all around me._ He scoffed.

Paying no attention to his surroundings, he turned a corner and continued his walk to nowhere land. All John yearned for right now was some peace. Unfortunately, this was all interrupted when he heard a shrill scream. Thinking something exciting was happening, he lifted his head to find out. _Damn it to hell! _It was a girl. No, it was a herd of girls and they were all staring at him, mouths gaping open. _Not all at once, now. I only have one dick. _However, he didn't stop walking; the girls were obviously not going to move.

Or so he thought. After a few mere seconds of their staring in utter disbelief, they all began to sprint towards him.

"Oh Christ." John muttered as he began to run.

The rain that started to fall didn't stop the teenage girls and John was getting soaked. His original plan was to look for a genius place to hide, but now he just longed for the hotel. He had to have been running for ten minutes already. _I need a cigarette._ As he reached for them in his pocket, gravity had its way and caused him to almost drop his pack, trip over his own foot, and nearly fall on his face. Luckily the fear of getting molested caused his reaction time to speed up and he swiftly got back on his feet. _Perhaps that can wait._ John picked up the pace, but without ease. His breathing was shallow and his chest had that horrible burning sensation. _They have to stop eventually. _John frowned and took off his jacket. He apologized for what he was about to do and snuck a look behind him. _It's worth a try._

He threw his suit jacket behind him, and looked over his shoulder. The girls were practically clawing at each other over it. _If they really knew me, they'd burn it instead. _

The hotel soon came into view and John wanted to get down on his knees and worship it. What he once considered an undesirable place to be now seemed incredibly inviting.

* * *

Water dripping from his head, and pools of water coming out of his boots were only two of the many problems John was facing.

Epstein didn't look to pleased either. "Where have you been, John?" Brian asked in irritation and with a hint of worry. "We have an interview to go to!" He led John into the lobby where George, Ringo, and Paul were chatting.

_There he goes with his touchy feely shit. _John pushed Brian off of him in frustration, and continued to force his feet to move. _I need something normal. Not these god damn interviews. _"S'ppose we could just skip the interview?" John made sure to skip in order to emphasize the word.

Paul sighed. "Oh, come off it John. Don't go trying to ruin this just because you're lazy."

"Aye. Don't bring things down to your own level. It's immature, son." Ringo added with a snarky grin.

George simply sat there smoking a ciggie.

John looked at Ringo. "You think you're real clever, don't you?" He then turned to face Paul, and a scoff escaped his chapped lips."You weren't being chased by evil little girls, lad." John crossed his arms and sat down next to George.

George looked back and forth between John and Paul. "You two in some type of lover's quarrel? This could be a rather nice touch to the interview."

Ringo snickered and poured himself some freshly made tea.

"You're asking for it Harrison." Paul sneered.

"Quit it! All of you!" Brian interrupted. "Stop acting like boys and quit your arguing!"

"I thought it was funny." George shrugged and lit another fag.

_Stop acting like boys, eh? _John got up and started to walk out of the room. "I'll go clean myself up a bit then." He said while looking at the other 'boys'. When his eyes landed on Paul's, they seemed to lock onto his. Paul appeared to be quite tense and his eyes seemed glazed over. John didn't understand why he was mad or the reason for his bad mood, but Paul did a good job at covering it up. _Such an angel face. _John heaved a sigh and continued to his room.

* * *

The bath water made John feel as if he was going to melt. After being out in the cold, it's incredible what being submerged into warm water can do. _Maybe if I pretend I'm somewhere else… _John vocalized that familiar tune as he shut he dark eyes. The darkness that accompanied him was welcoming. He need not worry about the outside world with his eyes closed._ Just a few winks…_

John let sleep overcome him.

* * *

_I don't understand why I must always check on John. I'm not his mother. _Paul wasn't a woman either. _If he needs such care, maybe we should get him a nanny. _That was something to think about. Paul chuckled at this clever idea and decided to look into the idea later.

Paul wasn't necessarily sure why he was angry with John. _He's lazy._ Was John really that lazy? _No. _He argued with himself as he made his way to John's room. Maybe the reason Paul was angry is due to the fact that John is. Their emotions went hand-in-hand sometimes. More than sometimes. _Most of the time…s. _'Oh, you're unhappy Paul? Well, so am I!' John's been angry a lot lately. _So have I. _It actually made sense. Paul didn't like it though. He knew the reason he felt this way, he knew the reason why he always volunteered to keep up with John, he knew why he was the only one who could teach John, he knew that- _Well, you can stop there McCartney. No need to say things that you certainly do not mean._

Once he made it to John's room, he made sure that his presence was noticed. Paul cleverly did this by slamming the door closed, and bombarding John's room- of course. _Does he ever clean? _Paul rolled his eyes at all the junk scattered everywhere.

He let out an exasperated breath and called John's name. And called John's name. And called…John's. Name.

_For the love of God! _Since John obviously didn't feel like saying anything, Paul began to search the hotel room. Being that this hotel was especially pricey, the rooms just needed to have rooms that consisted of rooms. Or something like that. He checked the lounging area first, it only seemed logical. This part had a miniature kitchen. _We all know how John is. _John wasn't there. _Perhaps the bedroom then. _No. _What else is there? _He went back to the lounge and looked it over. _The bathroom. Why didn't I think of going there first? Stupid git probably got stuck._

Paul gracefully dodged all the items on the floor and made his way toward the restroom. Because he is such a gentleman, Paul lightly tapped the door. _Nothing. _Then he knocked. _Nothing. _All patience gone, Paul slammed a fist on the door. _Ow. _The sound of splashing and some drowsy explicative came from behind the door.

"Get out of the bath you lazy bastard!" Paul made sure to say it in the nicest way possible.

"What say ye?" A refined British accent answered.

Paul would have laughed, but his bad mood had taken over his sense of humor. Instead, this remark only made him angrier and he could almost feel his head about to burst. "You heard me! Stop being…so…so…f –"

The opening of the door, and the half-naked John took Paul by surprised. Paul closed his still opened mouth and looked John up and down. He didn't know if it was the wet hair sticking to his face, the smile that was threatening to replace John's nonchalant appearance or the unusual pose he had himself in that affected him the most. Thankfully he was angry, otherwise his flushed face would need to be hidden immediately. _Paul, what is wrong with you? You act like you're a queer or something. _

As expected, John's face broke out into a cheeky smile. "Don't take it all in at once, mate. You know what happened last time someone tried. It wasn't pretty my friend." He pushed past Paul and went to retrieve clothing for the day's special event.

Far more aggravated than before, Paul spat a 'witty' remark back. "No problem for me, lad. I find it a bit hard to just look at your face." Paul smiled to himself inside his head. _Good one, McCartney. _

As John put on his undershirt he looked over at Paul. "Macca, what's wrong babe? You seem a bit tense. Perhaps you should leave, hm?" At first he spoke jokingly, but John's statement ended quite bitter.

"Sod off John!" Paul rolled his eyes. "Just cause you can't handle your pitiful life doesn't mean you need to bring others into it." He knew this would make John angry, and Paul knew he'd feel guilty later on. Trying to stay cool, Paul crossed his arms and shot a convincing glare at John. He felt a bit childish, but he didn't care at the moment.

Now John was furious. Once he put his shoes on, John walked over to Paul in ever-so-slow pace. "Don't" He leveled his face with Paul's. "you" He moved closer. "fucking" Closer. "act" At this point John made sure his face was as close to Paul's as possible. "like you know what you're talking about." John clutched Paul's slim shoulder and gave him a forceful shove.

"Maybe if you would quit acting like a bird. All you do is fucking mope around and such. Look at yourself, John!" _You look drained, lo-John._

Suddenly John's anger faded and returned to his previously exhausted state. _Why must he be so moody?_

"I'm just tired. S'all it is." John looked away and headed for the door. He stopped as he grabbed the knob and turned to face Paul. "You coming or you gonna stand there all bloody day?"

Paul pretended to think about it. "Well, actually…"

John shrugged.

"I'm coming. I'm coming." Paul grinned smugly.

John proceeded to open the door for Paul. "Ladies first." He motioned with his hand.

Paul glared at him. "Not in the least bit funny."

John replied with a genuine smile.

_There's my John. My John? _Paul sighed and walked with John down the ornate hallway. As they entered the elevator, Paul mocked John what John had done to him at the door.

"Why thank you, kind sir." John said in a girly, sing-song manner.

_My John._

* * *

_I can never stay angry with him. _It was amazing to John. He didn't fancy the strange feeling he had for Paul. More importantly, he didn't fucking understand it. _Hell If I know what this is. _This is what bothered him the most. John always wanted to make sure people thought that he was confident. He couldn't do this when he started to become confused. Plus, his façade always, always, failed with Paul. _I hate Paul for knowing me. So well. _No, he didn't actually hate Paul; he just liked to think that he did. It helped in making him feel better, to reassure his superiority.

"You alright, son?" Paul's innocent eyes met with his. "You keep clenching your fists."

He looked down at his hands to find his knuckles white from squeezing so tightly. "Oh. I'm alright. S'nothing."

When they got to the lobby, Brian was talking with someone who looked important and Ringo and George were in a laughing fit. They looked a little strange, in John's opinion.

George rid his eyes of his tears and looked at John and Paul. "Did you two make up?"

Ringo joined in. "I think so. Paul looks a bit flushed, Georgie."

More laughs.

John quickly went over to the two Beatles in hysterics. "D'you guys light a joint without us?" It was an extremely dumb question. Their red eyes were enough to prove their impaired state.

Paul joined the three after standing awkwardly by himself. "That's not fair!" He pouted after overhearing what they were chatting about. He shot a quick glance at John who seemed to be doing the same. John winked at him and looked back at his two friends.

"Laugh it up, guys. Next time me and Paulie here won't share."

Ringo punched John's arm playfully. "We'll be glad to not interrupt you two blokes."

"Shut it!" Paul spat.

John looked back at Paul. "Cheer up, Paul. We have an interview to do."

George and Ringo continued with their random banter and giggles, completely ignoring anything that wasn't revolved around them.

"I'm holding you to that."

John's droopy eyes blinked slowly. "Of course."

"Come on boys!" Epstein motioned to the car waiting for them.

_Off to another piss poor interview. _


	2. Chapter 2

"There's been a couple of rumor's going around that you're known as the 'fat beatle'…"

The ride back to the hotel was spent in an awkward silence, and John staring out the window with deep hatred in his eyes. Has anyone been brave enough, they may have squeaked out a few words, but since John was on the brink of destruction- silence was the best option. The arrival at the hotel wasn't much different. It consisted of the three other Beatles trying to start up a conversation and John heading straight to his room. One of them suggested going after him, but that just ended in nervous glances.

As soon as John entered his room, he picked up the nearest object and smashed it on the ground. Along with the glass shattering, John let out a noise that could best be described as some angry, un-tamed beast.

"Fucking sods!" John shouted to no one listening. He went to the one of the many stained cabinets and opened up the first overpriced liquor bottle he saw.

Taking a swig of the alcohol, John trudged to his bathroom and looked in the mirror. _They think I'm fat? What a laugh. _John set his bottle on the counter and took off his shirt in frustration. He studied his body, making sure to find every imperfection. His round face, his beak of a nose, the weary eyes, near double chin, anything else he could think of. He lifted up his head, ran his fingers under his chin once more, and wished he could rip off all his skin. Taking another chug from his bottle, John felt the rest of his body.

"I'm a bleeding pig. No doubt Cyn thinks so." John tried to think of Cynthia and Julian as little as possible. He couldn't handle himself and bloody well couldn't handle being a father. Cynthia's nagging about his 'neglection' towards Julian was the cause of John's many migraines at home. _She doesn't understand. I'm not ready for any of this. I didn't want any of this._

Disgusted with the reflection, John dragged his feet to his bed. He also made sure to bring two more bottles with him.

"I wonder what Pa-" On second thought, he didn't want to mention his name. His eyes got blurrier than usual and they stung just a bit. Why is it that he cried when he thought of what Paul may feel about him? He should care about what Cynthia thinks. Why should he care what anyone thinks? Especially Paul. _Because Paul is who keeps me going. He just doesn't have a clue. _

John quickly downed the other two bottles with ease. Had he been sober he would have realized how incredibly stupid he is. Getting drunk on an empty stomach wasn't the brightest idea, but John had no desire to eat. Not anymore. He never wanted to eat again. _Maybe…I'll…sstarve..meself. _

"'Nother bottle…" John slurred as he clumsily made his way toward the built in kitchen.

* * *

Paul was worried, and when Paul is worried he tends to have weird habits. This time around he took a liking to biting his thumb nail. Anything that would keep him from thinking about the past few hours was completely grand. He didn't want to think about the interview, he didn't want to think about John's expression when they asked that bloody question, and he didn't want to think about how angry it made him. _I should do something. I should do something._

Brian simply said to not worry about and to take it easy. _Ha. Take it easy, eh? That's easy for you to say, you poof. _Who was he to call Brian a poof? He was one himself, wasn't he? _No, I have a girlfriend. _John had a wife...and a son. _John doesn't have…those kinds of feelings for me. I don't have those kinds of feelings for John. _Paul knew John would never think that way. John was one of the straightest me Paul has ever seen. He was the kind of guy who'd rather drop dead than touch another man. Wasn't he?

"If you keep eating your hand, you won't be hungry for dinner." Ringo absent-mindedly interrupted Paul's thoughts.

Paul's eyes widened as he snapped out of his trance. He whipped his head toward Ringo, whose eyes were gazing at his hand. "Sorry, mater. I'm worried about John. Y'know…" Paul didn't finish his sentence, he was too paranoid.

George sighed and turned a page in his book. Without looking up he said, "Sure John is just blowing off steam. Y'know- destroying things and the like." Paul didn't know how George could remain so calm. Sometimes he wondered…

"Look Paul, if it bothers you that much, go visit the lad." Ringo twirled his drumsticks a few times.

Paul placed his hands on his knees and stood up. Fixing his shirt, Paul said, "You're right. I will Ringo." He cleared his throat and fixed his tie.

Ringo nodded to Paul and George acknowledged his departure as Paul left the room.

* * *

Standing in front of John's door, Paul thought of what exactly he was going to say. Perhaps he would simply enter the room and announce that he was there to save the day. It's a bird, it's a plane, no it's! It's! It's…Paul. _That's ridiculous. _Maybe he could slyly put his arm around John and tell him it would be alright. Don't worry Johnny 'ole boy. _How cliché. _Or he could go into the room and pretend like he was just passing by. _Sounds peachy._

Paul slowly turned the knob and said a silent prayer to whatever God was out there. He asked for things to go smoothly. Really, all Paul wanted was protection from John's almighty wrath. _I would love to not get a busted lip._

Once he got the door open (John should learn how to lock things), he crept inside the room. To his surprise he found John on his bed surrounded by bottles. He looked rather pale and Paul couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. _Maybe he's resting. _As Paul walked ever-so-slowly to the bed in front of him he noticed the pile of glass on the floor. Shards were scattered everywhere and Paul wondered what they looked like all reconnected.

Clearing a path with his feet, Paul groaned. "Are you really this irresponsible that you must break something?!" _It was just a god damn interview! _Paul's brow wrinkled as he scowled at John.

Gently, John's eyes opened. "G..gettt out…y..you..prick." Judging by his appearance and voice, John was on the verge of passing out drunk.

"Oh, how lovely. You're bloody drunk." Paul mumbled audibly. "Anything else you want to ruin?" He was by John's side by the time he said this, towering over him.

"Allll…readee ruined ever'thing, mate." John's voice was barely audible. He looked up at Paul only to show red eyes and dampened hair. Paul was hoping he was being silly, but John's face was anything but. It was almost frightening.

Paul's expression softened and he slouched over John. He put his hand on John's broad shoulder and used the other to cup his face. _There's no used yelling. You're so broken, love. _Paul frowned and lowered his face to John's ear. "Let me help you."

John tilted his head and faced Paul. Their lips were mere centimeters apart and Paul could almost hear John's cry for help. The alcohol on his breath was just a familiar scent by now. _If you weren't drunk- I'd kis- kill you. _Paul made sure to correct himself. He always did. John was a friend. Paul liked girls. Paul liked-loved- a girl. What was her name? It started with a J. _Like John. _"Beautiful John." _Oh blimey._

Ignoring his accidental spill of words, Paul took John's limp body to the bathroom. He knew John was going to be sick if he didn't help him get rid of all the whisky he had consumed.

"Wake up! Open your eyes, John!" Paul said whilst shaking John's body. "C'mon Johnny." He shook his head lightly and then sprinkled some water on him.

John's heavy-lidded eyes sprang open. "Jezuz Paul..iee. Stop doin' thattt. Will yaa?" Not only did John look drained, but he looked incredibly green. His hair was sweat ridden, causing it to stick to his forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot. Paul noticed John's shaking hands when he reached for them. "I feel sick." _I know, John._

Paul's worried state only got worse as the other Beatle began heaving. Quickly he helped his friend to the toilet and balanced John as he vomited all that he had consumed in past day. As John's stomach emptied it's contents, Paul noticed tears escaping the brown-eyed man. Once John finally stopped, Paul cleaned him up. He wiped his forehead and gently wiped the tears from his eyes. Paul searched John's, trying to figure out why this beautiful man was so destroyed. _You're a fool, John. Why do you do this? _Paul moved John's hair out of his face and placed his lips to his temple. John signed and leaned into Paul.

The younger man wrapped his arms around John's naked torso and helped him back to bed. As he tucked John in, he debated whether he should stay or not. Ringo would probably come back soon, so he could take care of John. But- Paul wanted to be with John tonight. He wanted to sleep next to John's perfect body and tell him that he was a perfect human being. Those interviewers could kiss Paul's arse if they didn't agree. This drunken, destroyed, bruised, battered, unstable, reckless, stubborn, complicated, wonderful, amazing, sexy man was sleeping in such an un-worthy bed. Even his breathing was pleasant to Paul's ears. It was smooth, but erratic. His brunette hair was had a gorgeous shine and his face flushed a velvet-like pink.

Paul stopped. _What have I become? Admiring my best friend, wanting my best friend. I'm a man, I shouldn't love another man…not like this. _Paul gave in anyway. He stripped of outerwear and climbed into bed. He basked in the warmth of John's body heat and imagined John's arms around him. After checking John one last time, Paul joined him in dreamland.

* * *

"Ah, bugger. Spilled me tea." Ringo grunted. He picked up his mug and tried his best to clean up the puddle of liquid.

A yawn escaped his mouth and Ringo scratched his head. _Maybe I'll get me some sleep. _Today had been exhausting and he knew John must feel bad. Ringo had a good idea that John didn't feel too happy about his looks, but he didn't think it was like this. He just figured John wasn't rather confident. Ringo didn't want to get involved with this mess though. John wouldn't listen to him anyways. _He can be a strange fellow, that John. _

Ringo put away his left over tea and headed for his room. He secretly was hoping John would be asleep. Ringo was too tired to deal with John's late-night temper tantrums. Sometimes he acted as if Ringo was his father. It's not that Ringo didn't want to help John; it's that he knows John doesn't want the help even when he asks for it. _I'm not a bliming psychiatrist anyways. _Ringo shrugged and fiddled with his numerous as he made his way to the door. _Sounds quiet. _He opened the door and was surprised to find complete silence.

"Would you look at that." He said admiring the peace and quiet.

He kicked off his boots and made his way to the bathroom to wash up. When he passed the bedroom he noticed something strange. He did a double take, in fact, and then proceeded to rub his eyes as to make the scenario clearer. _What in the bloody hell? _Ignoring the scattered clothes and broken glass, there lay Paul and John intertwined in bed. A million things popped into Ringo's head then, most inappropriate, but he decided to block those out. Once his eyes got used to the darkness he could see the peaceful state that both of them were in. Ringo could swear there was a smirk on John's face. He wasn't all that surprised actually, these two could never surprise him anymore. They were just Paul and John, and that was that. _Guess I'll bunk with George tonight. _Ringo grabbed an extra pair of clothes and headed out.

* * *

John woke up because of two reasons: his blistering headache, and the warm body he could feel next to his. With eyes still closed, he tried to remember last night. _Let's see…_ John rubbed his temples and rested his arm above his head. _Interviewer called me fat. I got angry. I drank. And- well, fuck. What was it that I did? I didn't bed some bird did I? _John fluttered his right eye open and emitted a guttural sound as the sun hit his eye. Being aware, he shaded his face with his hand and opened both eyes. He blinked a few times to clear his head and looked over.

John gasped and jumped at the site of Paul's body. _What- the…Why is Paul-? _He suddenly felt extremely flustered. What if John had said something? Surely Paul would have ignored him. _Fucking twat. Why can't he just leave me be? _John tried to push Paul away, but that just caused the younger man to sigh and put his arm around John. John looked down at Paul's arm like it was some diseased rat. He didn't want Paul touching him; he didn't want to feel- _God damn it_. Why was he fooling himself? He's loved Paul for so long. John couldn't even count the millions of times he's wanted to take Paul and claim him as rightfully his. _Paul is mine. _Now he sounded like those brainless girls who passed out at their concerts.

"Oh shit!" John exclaimed as he remembered: the show tonight. He jolted upright and looked the clock to check the time. Phew. _It's still early. _His heart rate gradually dropped down to a normal beat.

John breathed in deeply and let himself admire Paul for once. He already knew his favorite of Paul: that mouth. Not only were his lips beautifully sculpted, but his voice was pure magic. John cherished each fantasy he had of Paul trying his hardest not to scream John's name as he fucked him senseless. John could feel himself get heated, and feel an unwanted feeling in his stomach just thinking about it. _Save that for another time, lad. _John timidly reached for Paul's hair, so that he could run his hands through it. Just as he was about to, the chocolate brown eyes opened; John recoiled his hand in terror.

Paul's eyes shifted left to right as if he had forgotten why he was here. He lifted himself slowly, so he could sit up in the bed. Paul locked eyes with John. "How's your head, love?" Paul suddenly turned his.

At first John had a puzzled look. _Love? _It changed to a grin. "Hurts like hell, but I'll be fine. Don't you worry 'bout it, honey."

Paul looked back at John with slightly reddened cheeks. His frown soon turned to a smile. "I worry all the time." Paul's was all the sudden very meek.

John was taken aback. Well, in his head he was. _No smart ass comments? _ "Is your head alright?" John cocked his head like a confused puppy.

Paul cleared his throat. If he was thinking what John was thinking, this was a rather awkward situation. "John…I…you're…" Paul bit his lip and avoided eye contact with the Beatle in front of him. "Why would you think that?" Sadness crept into Paul's eyes.

John was fed up with this. "Just let it be! We all know it's true anyways!" He didn't know if he was, but John felt like he was screaming. The anger and loneliness entered back into his heart.

Paul's expression stiffened. He clearly was thinking hard about something, but then gave up after a few seconds. He moved awkwardly a couple times and opened his mouth to say silent words. Finally he spoke up, "Oh shu-"

Then Paul's lips smashed against John's. Teeth scraped teeth. Hands looked for support. Tongues danced with each other. John's headache faded away as he reveled at Paul's touch. Paul's plumb lips collided with John's and he could feel the desire. John wasn't surprised at how perfectly their lips fit together, or how in sync their tongues were. John was surprised at how eager and hungry Paul was for this. Maybe Paul could be the man in a relationship, but John decided to block out these thoughts. He could hardly think anyways, this was all just too arousing. John clung to Paul's smaller body and touched his angel-like hair. Paul, however, took a liking to John's chest, touching and caressing and making John with pleasure.

Breathe. Once they broke apart, both were panting.

"Fuck." John whispered.

"Fuck." Paul repeated breathlessly.

John ran his fingers across his lips and he could still feel Paul's on his. _Fuck was right._

Everything had just changed.

Paul broke the thick silence. "How does some tea sound?" He asked innocently, beaming at John.

"Yes. Tea. Lovely." John was still a bit incoherent.

* * *

John Lennon looked in the mirror and replayed the situation that had just unraveled. He was trying to hid his obnoxious smile, but with failed attempt. He made sure he looked good (there's a first time for everything) and he walked out of his hotel room to go join Paul for tea. Despite John's previous denial at this connection with Paul, he was willing to embrace it. _Maybe this is what Brian feels like. _John wasn't a poof though, he reassured himself. He just happened to love his friend more than he should. Happens all the time. _And then you get hurt. I don't want Paul to get hurt. _John would think about that later. Right now, he wanted to enjoy this un-normal normalcy. Er, that made more sense in John's head.

* * *

When John went to the lobby, he could smell a very welcoming fragrance. He smiled as he breathed it in. Paul came out and offered him tea, which John gladly accepted. They sat net to each other, legs touching. They sat in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. John didn't know how to start a conversation anymore; he felt any words he spoke would be choked back by his throat. He also had a feeling Paul wanted to say something, but just ended up making pouty faces. He was just as scared as he was.

"Ow, fuck!" Paul cried, causing John to have a near heart attack. John was going to ask what the matter was, but he soon found out.

Paul's jittery hands were desperately trying to clean up the spilled tea on his leg. John offered to help, but Paul just grumbled. The laugh that erupted from John's mouth only caused Paul to laugh.

"You sounded like a damned girl, you did!" John forced out between laughs.

Paul lightly shoved John. "Oh shush! You would have done the same!" Paul was still frantically dabbing at his pants.

John started to spastically move his body. "Oh Paulie! Please help me! I soiled me pants!" John tried to sound like a young girl, but he ended up sounding more like a grandma.

The younger Beatle smiled mischievously and leaned over him. "I'll help you alright, son."

John knew this was bad news. However, Paul knew the exact place to touch John, so that he would be completely helpless. _Oh bugger!_ Paul went for the side of John's hips, and John couldn't help but release the most questionable giggle. He tried to whack Paul's hands away, but with no prevail. After a few desperate moments, Paul stopped his attack on John and let out a triumphant laugh. John opened his teary eyes and looked at Paul's smiling face. He was right on John's lap. They both went from hyper toddlers to silent men.

John began to feel his heart quicken in pace and his face redden. _I'm acting like a bleeding horny little boy! _Paul's eyes were riveted on John's lips. John's throat was threatening to close up as he snaked his hands up Paul's back; never breaking Paul's stare. John couldn't stand the silence, it was deafening.

"Macca." John croaked. _What is wrong with me?_

Paul's eyes shifted to John's, and the loving look he gave him could have made an angel cry. Painfully slow, Paul lowered his head until their noses touched. John could feel Paul's hot breath, and his body was so close. _God dammit, Paul McCartney. I want this. _More like needed, but John couldn't tell himself that yet.

John shortened the gap until his thin lips brushed against Paul's. He breathed in the scent of his friend's cologne. It was a husky scent, but it had a hint of something sweet. _This smells better than any bird I've been with. _Why was he wearing cologne in the first place?

Paul nipped at John's bottom lip and ran his tongue beneath it. Then, for the second time that morning, the two Beatles kissed. This time was different though. As John grasped Paul's back and Paul played with John's hair, this kiss was more than just desire, it was passion. It made John wish they could do this forever. The moan that escaped Paul's mouth only reinforced that wish. John responded with a moan of his own. Whenever they stopped for a breath, Paul would rest his forehead on John's making sure to stay as close as possible.

Footsteps. A yawn. John's eyes snapped open, and the two immediately stopped. _Fuck!_

"Hullo?" They heard George say from another room.

"Mmm. Macca get off!" John whined while he tried to stop Paul from kissing him. Paul didn't seem to have any intention to and went in for his lips again.

Door opens. With one last kiss, John pushes Paul off of him with a little too much force. John noticed he was half hard, so he quickly picked up a pillow and placed it on his lap.

"Morning John…and…" George's head turned to face the man on the ground. "…Paul." George went to turn on the tv, his bedhead bouncing as he walked.

"Sorry Paulie." John discretely whispered.

Paul looked at John with hurt in his eyes. _What did I do? _Paul stood up on wobbly legs and looked at George. "Excuse me, lads."

John noticed Paul was equally as hard. He would have chuckled at the thought of what Paul was really excusing himself for, but he found himself frowning instead. John was completely lost and confused. _I just need to shag a bird. S'all. Get this queerness out of me head._

John excused himself just as Ringo entered the room. Ringo looked at John suggestively, but he simply just shrugged and continued back to his room.

_Maybe I'll take a nap. My head hurts again._


End file.
